


Talking 'bout You and Me and the Games People Play

by megyal



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Fluff, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-07-01
Updated: 2006-07-01
Packaged: 2017-10-18 23:19:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/194392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megyal/pseuds/megyal





	Talking 'bout You and Me and the Games People Play

Pete spent about fifteen minutes laughing at Patrick when Patrick claimed he could be "quite seductive."

No. That wasn't quite right.

Pete had ROLLED his scrawny ass on the tv-room floor. Pete had staggered over to Joe and held onto him, bellowing that horsey laugh. Pete had held his sides and gasped and wheezed. And all the time Patrick was staring at him with the look of a psychiatrist finally witnessing the breakdown of a long-suspected mental patient. There was something else in that look too, something calculating, but Pete was having too much of a good time to notice.

"What?" Patrick demanded. "You don't think I can be seductive?"

"You? Wait. Lemme....hold on, I gotta laugh some more."

Pete flung himself on the sofa, nearly killing Andy (who, unfortunately, had wrongly decided that the sofa was a good place to nap) and shifted into full screech gear. Andy woke up, punched Pete in the side and asked just what the _fuck_ he was showing all his teeth for.

"The Stumpster here," Pete replied, wiping tears and chuckling helplessly, "thinks he can be a lean mean seducing machine."

"I can be," Patrick cut in evenly, "When I want to be."

"And when have you _ever_ wanted to be? Come on. Everybody here knows that I'm Mr. Mata Hari. You can't even come close...don't front, dude."

Andy got up, mumbling about _these fucking assholes_ , receiving a cheerfully thrown cushion to the head from Pete as he exited stage left, towards the bedrooms. Joe followed, shaking his head and chuckling as Pete, musing over just the _thought_ of it, dissolved into peals of laughter again.

Patrick stood up from the chaise he had been in and sauntered over to Pete, who watched him approach through teary, crinkled eyes. Patrick merely sat beside him, crossing his legs at the knees, resting one elbow on them and propping his chin in his palm. He waited in deep patience as Pete guffawed and giggled, almost overwhelmed by his own good humour. Patrick's fingers tapped a slow chord against his own cheekbone and still he said nothing, simply looking at Pete with one eyebrow raised.

But it was the look in his eye that caused Pete to suddenly swallow his laughter in a huge gulp. The blue-green of Patrick's eyes had gone into a darker shade, and Pete suddenly found himself fixed. Like stuck. Like turned to stone. Hold on, _why_ was it he couldn't shift his gaze?

"You know," drawled Patrick slowly, not allowing Pete to look away, "I've always thought you have the loveliest eyes."

" _Really_ ," Pete tried to let out this word in haughty scorn, but to his eternal shame, it managed to escape his vocal chords in a high sharp squeak. He cleared his throat, watching Patrick's mouth move into a little secret smile. "Please, Patty-cakes, don't even _try_ any seductive shit on me...don't embarrass yourself, now."

Patrick chuckled in a dark manner that convinced the hairs on the back of Pete's neck to stand up.

"Who said anything about trying, Pete?" He leaned in so close and Pete could feel the warmth radiating off him. "In any case, that's the truth. I really do love the colour."

Patrick was studying his eyes with the concentration of a student absorbing all his notes for a final exam, and Pete felt his temperature hit critical levels. He tugged at his tight shirt. He fidgeted and squirmed under Patrick's relentless stare. He was suddenly miles away from the laughter that had engulfed him earlier, and he didn't like it one bit. Oh. But maybe he did.

"What's wrong with you?" Patrick asked sweetly. "Am I making you feel funny?"

Yeah. In a good way.

"No. Get over yourself," Pete snorted weakly, and jumped as Patrick suddenly took his hand.

"It's easy to see why those girls go crazy over you," Patrick complimented off-handedly as his thumb rubbed the top of Pete's wrist in a lazy circle and at that touch Pete knew Patrick had managed to Seduce The Wentz in under five minutes. Record Fucking Time. And he wasn't even doing or saying anything outrageous, like Pete would have. It was just that...that fucking look in his eye.  
What the fuck.

Patrick watched Pete's face carefully.

"So. Who's Mr. Mata Hari now?"

Pete frowned.

"You're just a tease, man. Anyway, you wouldn't have let this little game of yours go any further," Pete spluttered, trying to extricate his wrist from Patrick's grip. Patrick tightened his fingers around the escaping hand and pulled him in close, so close that Pete could feel his breath on his face and was actually unconciously (yeah right) tilting his head to be kissed when Patrick spoke quietly, the space between their mouths measured in just increments.

"I wasn't playing any games. I was doing this to prove a point. Let's see if you actually get it."

Patrick released him and got up, backing away from the sofa for a couple of steps, that heated gaze and secret smile blowing Pete's mind, and then spun on his heel. Pete gaped at his retreating back as he disappeared through the arched opening, and heard his bedroom door open and close softly a few moments after.

The point.  
 _The point._  
What was the fucking point?

Pete decided that he'd figure it out later as he launched himself out of the sofa and flew to Patrick's bedroom. Time to show that bastard what _real_ seduction was like.


End file.
